


Under the Table

by HiddenTreasures



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Blow Jobs, F/M, Public Blow Jobs, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:09:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenTreasures/pseuds/HiddenTreasures
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose go out to dinner, and Rose can't seem to keep her hands to herself. Not that the Doctor minds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under the Table

**Author's Note:**

> This was prompted by and written for captaingrahamcr on Tumblr.

“Are you ready yet?”

Rose swung open the door to their en suite, where she had assumed she would find the Doctor either fiddling with his hair or fiddling with his bow tie. It was the latter, and Rose giggled when she saw him yanking at the knotted mess of fabric.

He turned to glare at her, but his face went blank and the bow tie fell out of his hands as his eyes raked over her body. She was wearing tight red dress that ended just below her knees and the neckline plunged into a low V, showing off a generous amount of cleavage. She smirked, and made a show of bending down to retrieve his fallen bow tie. She heard his breath hitch when she felt the front of her dress droop slightly to reveal more of her breasts. As she moved to stand again, she was amused to see the front of his tight trousers trying to twitch into a tent.

“See something you like?” she purred, stepping closer than necessary to slip and knot his bow tie properly around his neck.

“Oh, yes,” he growled, gripping her hips tightly and walking her back against the wall.

She moaned when his lips met hers forcefully and his tongue delved deeply into her mouth. He sucked and bit and licked her lips, and Rose knew that her lipstick was ruined. But she couldn’t bring herself to care as he began rutting his hard-on against her hip as his hands groped and squeezed her breasts.

“Doctor, we’ll miss our reservation,” Rose gasped when he started sucking on the skin where her neck joined her shoulder.

“Sod the reservation,” he mumbled, biting at her neck hard enough to where she knew she’d have a hickey if she didn’t stop him soon.

As much as she wanted to let him continue, she had been looking forward to their dinner date all week. It was the grand opening of a new Italian restaurant and she was eager to try it. She had even bought a new dress just for the occasion. She reluctantly pushed him away, ignoring his whimpering protest.

“Please?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes in a way he could never refuse.

He looked torn between wanting to ravish her right there and with wanting to let her have her way. He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled shakily before he nodded.

“Oh, all right,” he said.

He looked deliciously rumpled and thoroughly snogged, and the hand he was raking through his hair didn’t help.

“C’mere,” she said, stepping close to him to fix his hair, straighten his bow tie, and wipe her lipstick off his face.

“You owe me,” he said petulantly as he subtly readjusted the front of his trousers.

“Oh, I’ll make it worth your while,” Rose promised, before she grabbed his hand and walked him to the car.

Dinner was an eventful affair to say the least, and the Doctor would eternally be grateful that Rose had requested the most secluded booth in the restaurant, away from prying eyes.

The Doctor was hard in his trousers all evening, and his stubborn erection wouldn’t fade no matter what he did. And Rose wasn’t helping. Just when he thought he had himself under control, Rose was give him a look or say something raunchy, and he was back to square one.

“Rose, you’re killing me,” he growled as she slipped into the booth beside him, pressing her thigh directly against his, to more easily share their entrées, as per usual.

“M’not doing anything, Doctor,” she said innocently, even as she placed her hand high on his thigh.

The Doctor sighed and tried to ignore the heat of her hand that was so close to where he was throbbing for her.

He was just about to take another bite of pasta when she slid her hand over the front of his trousers. He squeaked as he felt himself hardening against her teasing fingers, and he had to cough to cover his embarrassing reaction that had turned the heads of the passing wait staff.

“All right there, Doctor?” Rose asked, delicately swallowing her own bite of food.

“Rose, stop,” he hissed as her fingers teased up and down his aching length. He shifted in his seat as his cock pressed up painfully against his zip.

She did, and the Doctor let out a sigh of relief. Though they were more secluded than the rest of the patrons, they were still in the middle of a restaurant where anybody could catch a glimpse at their risqué behavior. The Doctor shivered at the pulse of arousal at the prospect of being caught.

The Doctor managed to get himself under control enough to finish their meal.

Their waiter came by to clear their plates, and he was about to ask for the bill, but Rose instead ordered dessert.

“Really, you want dessert?” the Doctor asked incredulously. He was still impossibly hard in his pants, and wanted nothing more than to get home as fast as possible and shag her into next week.

“Mhm,” she said running her fingers lightly up and down his thigh once more. She nuzzled into his neck and nipped at the sensitive patch of skin beneath his ear.

“Rose,” he whimpered as she palmed him through his trousers. “Please.”

“Please what?” she whispered, swirling her fingertips where she thought the tip of his cock might be.

He shuddered and clenched his hands into fists as he rocked up into her torturous touch. She continued to rub and squeeze him, delighting in his muffled moans and the light thrusting of his hips that turned more urgent the longer she teased.

“Rose, love,” he groaned as she gave him a particularly deft squeeze. “Gotta stop. Too close.”

As much as he didn’t want her to stop, he also didn’t want to come in his pants in the middle of a crowded restaurant. His cock throbbed in protest and he very much wanted to rush off to the loo to finish himself off.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured shakily.

Just as he was about to stand, their server came over with their dessert. It was some sort of chocolate cake with banana slices on it and it looked delicious. Under any other circumstance, the Doctor would’ve delighted in Rose’s choice of dessert. But as it was, he was desperate to rid himself of his aching cock and of the nearly-overwhelming sense of arousal.

“Rose,” he whimpered, as their waiter came by again when he saw the Doctor wasn’t eating the dessert.

Rose waved their server off, saying it was delightful, before she turned to the Doctor and whispered, “If anyone asks, I’ve gone to the loo,” with a wink.

The Doctor was about to ask what she meant, but she quickly ducked under the table and he felt her fingers ease his zipper down far enough to where she could tug his cock out of his pants.

“Rose!” he hissed, looking around nervously. “Rose, we’re in public!”

“Shh, no one can see,” she soothed, tracing her thumb over his red and weeping tip. “Why do you think I asked for this table?”

He bit his lip to stifle a moan when her tongue drew a hot line up his cock.

“Rose, please,” he begged, gripping his fork tightly to keep himself from taking over and pumping himself to completion.

Rose thankfully took pity on him, and the Doctor forced himself to keep a straight face as she stoked him faster and faster. His belly clenched and tightened.

“Close,” he whispered, his jaw clench. “Rose…Rose, fuck, _stop_ …waiter!”

The Doctor nearly sobbed at the loss of her mouth, but he didn’t want the waiter coming over mid-orgasm. His cock throbbed and his balls tingled, wanting to expel their contents into Rose’s wet, warm, waiting mouth.

“Are we finished here?” the waiter asked, gesturing to the half-filled plate of dessert.

_Nearly was_ , the Doctor thought petulantly, even as he nodded quickly, unable to form words quite yet..

“Right, then, are we ready for the bill, or would you or your companion be wanting anything else this evening?”

Rose’s hot tongue then flicked over the tip of his cock, lapping up the beads of moisture he was leaking.

“No,” he squeaked. His face flamed red, and he hoped the waiter wasn’t becoming suspicious of what was going on beneath the table cloth. He cleared his throat and tried again. “No, we’re fine. Thanks. Bill please.”

“Very well, sir,” the waiter said before removing the plate of cake and walking away.

“Rose,” he begged as he tongue continued to tease him. “Please, Rose.”

He had to bite his lip to stop a strangled cry as she sucked the entire length of him into her mouth. Oh, God, he was so close. He felt harder than he’d ever been, and he knew it wouldn’t take long. He reached down under the table and set his hand in her hair, urging her to keep going as he prayed she wouldn’t stop but _fuck_ , the waiter was back!

He tugged himself out of her mouth and squeezed the base of his cock, praying he could keep his orgasm at bay for just a few more seconds. It didn’t help that he could feel puffs of Rose’s breath ghosting across his cock.

The Doctor clumsily and one-handedly rifled through his wallet for their credit card, and thrust it at the waiter, who promised to be back in a few moments.

As soon as his back turned, the Doctor frantically pumped at his cock, muffling his whimpers of need and pleasure by biting his unoccupied fist.

Rose sucked the tip of him into her mouth, and he nearly yelped as the pressure in his abdomen tightened to near-painful proportions. _Fuck_ , he needed to come, regardless if he gave their waiter a free show.

His breathing turned shallow and he felt prickles of sweat bead on his brow as he desperately pumped himself closer to completion as Rose sucked him in a counter rhythm. Her tongue fluttered against that sensitive vein on the underside of his cock, and he finally, _finally_ , felt his balls spasm and the pressure break.

He grunted and whimpered into his fist as he released helplessly into her mouth, his eyes rolling back in his head at the immense pleasure prickling through him. His scalp tingled and his muscles felt too heavy for his body as he lazily stroked himself through the aftershocks.

“And here you are sir.”

The Doctor squeaked and bolted upright as their credit card was returned to him.

“I hope you enjoyed your service tonight.”

_Oh, I did_.

“Have a great evening, sir.”

Their waiter walked away, and the Doctor bit his lip to stifle a giggle. But when Rose carefully tucked him inside his pants and lifted herself up from under the table and met his eye, they couldn’t hold it back. They laughed raucously, and didn’t care that passing waiters and nearby patrons were craning their necks to see what had them in stitches.

“Blimey,” the Doctor gasped, angling their heads to plant a sloppy kiss on her lips. “That was bloody brilliant!”

“Sorry for leaving you hanging a couple times,” she said sheepishly. “Didn’t anticipate the eagerness of the waiter.”

“And I barely got any of that cake!” the Doctor pouted. “It looked fantastic!”

“I’ll make you one when we get home,” Rose promised. “And I think I can find other uses for that fudge sauce, too.”

The Doctor shivered as renewed pulses of arousal began settling in his belly.

“Home?” he asked, hopping up and holding his arm out for her.

She twined her arm through his and rested her head on his shoulder.

“Home.”


End file.
